


Remnants of Time: Save

by SnickerToodles



Series: Remnants of Time [1]
Category: Legend of Spyro, Spyro the Dragon (Video Games)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Canon Rewrite, Character Development, Chosen One, Dark, Dragons, Family, Fantasy, Fate & Destiny, Father Figures, Gen, Growing Up, POV Third Person, Plot Twists, Secrets, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26762992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnickerToodles/pseuds/SnickerToodles
Summary: Against all odds, two dragons of legend are born. But it seems only one of them was meant to exist. One small change, and everything could be thrown into chaos.
Series: Remnants of Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950286
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Remnants of Time: Save

Malefor was running out of time.

The Year of the Dragon, ten generations, the Night of Eternal Darkness drawing too soon upon them... Years had passed, time ticking down, as he bided his own here in this inescapable prison. Meaningless events came and went, leaving him waiting in the dark.

Finally, it was all coming together. Something real was happening in this world; the end he had driven them all towards was upon them. And he wasn't ready for it.

He'd gone over it again and again... Turning battles nearly lost, buying as much time as he possibly could. And on that borrowed time he'd scoured the Realms for the slightest hint, the tiniest lead, the smallest sign.

But he couldn't find it. The one threat to him, the one thing left that could turn fate for good. The one thing standing between him and the end he so craved, the bloody beginning of a world reborn in ash.

The next dragon in his ancient lineage... The successor, the one who would inherit his most primal powers. Somewhere out there a purple egg lay dormant, the life inside on the cusp of taking everything he had, his only chance to end this once and for all, and he _couldn't find it._

But brewing and brooding and scraping together every idea he had to no avail, finally, the tides turned.

“You're _sure.”_

The cold severity in that voice would have sent most apes scurrying for cover, but Gaul, his ragged grey fur and hunched stature betraying age, didn't so much as flinch. “We've tracked the Guardians to the Southern Temple. We know they have it. And more than just that – ”

The great ape rose from his kneeling position on the stone ground, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “There are dozens of other eggs. The rest of their generation. If we go through with this, the dragons will never recover.”

Before him, the dark Spirit Gem jutting out of the rock flickered and glimmered menacingly as if the entity on the other side was glaring down at him. But finally, Malefor's twisted voice emanated from it. “This is our last chance to end the dragon race and recover the purple egg. If you fail to bring it back – ”

“I will not fail.”

Again there was silence as Malefor considered. “Send all of the armies. Every last ape you can spare. And make sure,” the rumble of his growl filled the room, shaking the core of the mountain, “that the egg is not harmed.”

The unspoken or-else was not lost on Gaul, who, a bit quicker than usual, headed for the exit of his vast, shadowy throne room in the Well of Souls. “Very well. We march at dawn.”

Thus the ape left and the light faded from the gem, pulling Malefor's consciousness back into himself. His body separated, somewhere disconnected, eyes closed as it slept in eternal darkness. And his soul bound here in this void prison. Through the blinding brilliance around him, he could just see the stars.

The Night of Eternal Darkness was coming again. And with it, Alignment...

Twelve years from now, if all went well...

Nearly two hundred years he had been trapped here, waiting, biding his time. Only with great effort could his mind leave this cage, and only then into a specific concentrated point of magic. Those first few decades alone, stewing in silence and madness, he'd nearly gone insane.

If that egg was lost, he wouldn't get a second chance. Everything he had, all the progress he'd made, it would be gone. Escape could be possible. But it might be too late.

All those decades ago... He'd been so close, prepared to make the sacrifice that would purge this world in fire...

But this time, he wouldn't need to. This time, he would be free.

And he may just live to see a world reborn.

* * *

Ignitus couldn't help but sigh in relief – though it was more like a shudder of a terror passing by – as the glowing markings before him lit up and the doors of the Temple slid quietly open.

Stepping inside with their congregation of followers close behind, he finally allowed himself to relax. They'd made it.

The entrance hall was as inviting as ever, a wide, round room with vaulted ceilings lifting to stained glass windows. The faint moonlight coming through them was eclipsed by the warm candles set in sconces all the way up to the ceiling.

Young apprentices were tasked with lighting and blowing them out each day, he remembered. Once he had been one of them. In a few hours they'd be flying about extinguishing the lights, but for now the room was empty. That, perhaps, made it even more welcoming.

His five fellow Guardians tramped into the hall after him, shaking weeks of collective dirt off their backs with weariness equally reflected on all their features. Cyril was so exhausted that he had stopped complaining, and even Volteer was silent the last leg of the journey.

Behind them came the rest of their party, an assortment of moles and dragons, some acting as porters and others as guards. Tightly packed between them all, the small wagons carrying their precious cargo.

One particular egg had a wagon all to itself, but it was so tightly bunched in gaudy padding and blankets that it was impossible to catch a glimpse of its violet shell. This they carefully dragged to a quiet corner, careful not to so much as chip the scaled egg's surface.

At once the attendants scurried off to rouse the others, leaving the six Guardians alone to guard the quiet hall. But Ignitus knew the peace and quiet would not last, and he plopped down on his haunches to await the parade.

The rest of them followed suit, but within moments, the shadow Guardian broke rank, her black and grey markings shimmering in the firelight. “Sorry, but I think I'm skipping the welcome party,” she said dryly, coasting past the others. “I'm going to bed.”

“That's fine, Ka – ”

But before Ignitus could even finish, she had already disappeared down the hall, not waiting for anyone's permission.

“I'm about to follow her example,” Cyril said tiredly, lifting a light blue paw to knead his forehead. He wasn't any happier than his friends about the impending excitement of the next few hours.

Ignitus glanced at him. “Let's just ensure the eggs are safe and go to bed. We could all use some rest.”

Cyril scoffed. “Like they'll let us off that easy...”

This got no response, as Ignitus had already shut his eyes to bask in the brief solitude.

They could hear them before they saw them, the procession of envoys and teachers and whatever-else here to welcome them and escort them into the Temple (like they hadn't spent the better part of their young lives here). They broke through the halls and poured into the room like waves, chattering so that Ignitus could hardly make out what each was trying to say.

Luckily Volteer took the front lines – he was the only one of them who could comprehend so many strings of dialogue at once – and was babbling away. That quick tongue of his could be rather useful.

The moles took the most vital of their cargo first, a piece of purple shell visible through the heavy silken blankets wrapping it. Three of them carried it out of sight, each step vigilant for any cracks or holes in the floor, two more following behind with arms out ready to catch it if it was dropped.

Suddenly there was a disturbance near the back of the crowd, and an orange blur like a streak of flame shot out from the mass. The moles carrying the egg jumped and grumbled after it, but it paid no attention. “Master Ignitus!”

That was all the warning he got before the blur struck him square in the side, the great fire dragon stumbling and nearly falling to the ground. “I knew you would come back!”

Recognizing the young dragon pressing himself against him in a hug, Ignitus sighed, though not irately. “Hello, hello, Pyra.” He draped a wing over the child, returning his affection. “It's good to see you, but I would thank you not to tackle me to the ground.”

Gold eyes peered apologetically up, crinkling in a smile. “Sorry.” Breaking free from his master's wing, he bounced off and stood in front of him. Always so much energy... “I heard you might be coming, but they wouldn't tell me anything. I stayed up all night waiting for you!”

Ignitus couldn't help but smile. Pyra was his young charge, the fire dragon chosen to be his successor should something happen to him.

Not that he he liked to think about that. Pyra was still a hatchling, an adolescent at best. He had selected him from a pool of promising young fire dragons, and he was certainly the one among them with the most aptitude, but he was so young. If Ignitus died today...

They weren't meant to pick dragons so soon to succeed them. Normally the potential selections would be well into adulthood before they were even considered, much less began training in the secrets of elemental mastery. Normally, at least, they would be out of _school_.

But the elders had pressured the Guardians to choose before something happened to them. If they were wiped out – which was becoming more plausible by the day – their order would be lost. Their secrets forgotten. It only lived in the six of them. And in records, many of which, by now, had been burned. Thus far, only Ignitus and Cyril had chosen.

If they all died, the war would be over anyway...

The other three Guardians were chatting away, recounting the journey, giving orders to the nervous moles gingerly picking up wrapped bundles from the wagons. Haven in particular was looking nervous, barking orders and glancing at the hallway where the purple egg had disappeared.

But Cyril, with a pounding headache and in no mood for society, had moved towards the wall near Ignitus. At Pyra's explosive entrance, he rolled his eyes. “I see you've still done little in the way of teaching your young charge discipline, Ignitus.”

Before the fire Guardian could reply, there was yet another disturbance near one of the doorways. But this time, the blur that shot out from the crowd was a deep watery blue instead of orange. “Uncle Cyril!”

Before he could even flinch, the ice dragoness bowled into him with remarkable similarity to Pyra's reunion with Ignitus. “I missed you!”

“T-that – ” Cyril quickly recovered from the assault, but seeing Ignitus' almost _smug_ smile, frowned in embarrassment. “That's _Master_ Cyril within these halls, Ailyn.”

“Oh.” The young ice dragon stepped back, beaming cheerfully up at him. “Sorry, Uncle Cyril.”

Before the ice Guardian's strangled sound could turn into a scolding, a tall electric dragon burst through the crowd, eyes instantly locking on the two adolescents. “Young dragons!”

Ailyn immediately scurried over to her, while Pyra opted for cowering behind Ignitus. It did little to hide him from his teacher who stormed over in a tempest rather matching her element. “Back to your rooms!”

The young dragons hesitated for just a moment, and they were reprimanded with a sharp, _“Now.”_

That got their tails in gear, and with a wave back to their mentors, the two ran off. Sighing, the golden dragoness turned to the Guardians. “Sorry. Ever since those two caught wind you were returning to the Temple, it's been all I can do to keep them inside each night.”

Zerren, Ignitus noted. She was the “new” head of the Temple, charged with managing elemental instructors, keeping its young students in line, and all other general affairs. But by now, she wasn't very new. Ignitus just hadn't been here since the last one had been called to battle...

Hearing a thump and the sound of laughter down the hall, she scowled and quickly ran off. “I'd better make sure they get back to their rooms.” With that, she was gone before Ignitus could say so much as a goodbye.

The Guardian's smile faded before he realized it had graced his maw. It'd been such a long time since he'd been able to enjoy such juvenile shenanigans.

It seemed the world had never stopped descending since he'd graduated from the Temple and took the mantle of Guardian... Or perhaps there never had been peace at all, and back then he just hadn't noticed.

For now, there were more important tasks at hand than moping and reminiscing all night. So turning, he stepped towards the remaining eggs, sheltered for a moment from the chaos outside, and began to give out orders.

~~...~~

When Ignitus finally managed to slip away from the crowd, the eggs safely resting in the grotto deep within, the dark sky was streaked with the first implications of morning.

Sighing the deep sigh of a tired old dragon, he sat heavily there on the balcony edge overlooking the trim outer courtyard. The great willow tree at its center still loomed tall and strong as it ever had, its shed leaves decorating the ground.

Beyond the carefully cultivated grass within these walls, vegetation boomed. Forest bled to swampland, trees to mushrooms and everything in between. Some miles away, the young city Saifae rose up at the edge of the coast, its flags still flying even in the light of the moons.

Since he was a child, he'd often sat here to gaze out over the landscape. In the past century, it hadn't changed much. The Temple's exterior was a little greyer for sure, and the flowers and grasses were constantly recycling and reblooming in new arrangements.

But inside, the great murals and etchings that adorned the walls, the statues and other works of art, they hadn't changed a bit since the day he'd first stepped foot there. Still they bloomed with colour and life.

Life... The remnants of their generation... It was something he had to protect.

Behind him, the door whirred softly open. Ignitus closed his eyes. He wasn't much in the mood for conversation, but he didn't own the balcony. Throughout the Temple, all were free to come and go.

He'd been expecting Pyra, maybe, or some starry-eyed worker there to ask him ever more questions about his journey. The comforting weight easing onto his shoulder was far more welcoming.

“You should get some sleep.” The wind Guardian's voice was gently chastising. He could hear the smile take form in her words. “I doubt we'll get even a day of rest before they have us in there with the kids again.”

“I know, Haven.” Ignitus sighed, unable to match her cheerfulness. “I know.”

The grey dragon lifted off him, and he could feel her eyes probing him, taking in the anxiety no one else would have noticed on his stoic features. “There will be plenty of time for worrying. For now, let's rest. The worst is over.”

He didn't know if he believed that. They'd made it through their long journey without being caught by Malefor's forces, without the accidental loss of a single egg. Nearly a hundred of them, a small generation, but a generation nonetheless – all here in one place. An unwise last resort before their species became too small to sustain itself.

If Malefor found them, the worst was far from over.

As if reading his mind, Haven tried to reassure him. “This is the safest place in the world. They've tried hundreds of times to destroy it,” smirking, she rested against him again, “and they'll try a hundred more.”

Ignitus didn't reply, eyes still locked on the faintly pink horizon as his mind swam with worries. What if this, what if that... What if this last attempt to save their species only resulted in its destruction?

“Hey, Iggy...” The childish nickname roused him from his thoughts, and he turned to look at her in surprise, beaming at him like they were still hatchlings in love. “We're gonna be parents! Aren't you excited?”

She was just trying to cheer him up, he knew. But she really had been overjoyed to be part of the next era, and he was too. “Of course,” he said, finally returning her smile.

“Well, you're going to need your rest. They could start hatching tomorrow. So,” she stood, tugging at him with her wing until he was forced to get up too, “stop _brooding_ out here and go to bed.”

“Alright, alright,” he acquiesced, following her back into the Temple. Not that he had much of a choice as she'd wrapped her tail around his leg to drag him along. Haven spent far too much time worrying over him, but he would probably have had far more sleepless nights if it wasn't for her.

As he passed through the doorway into the training room with its fifty-foot tall reminder of everything they'd done wrong, he glanced back to take in the lightening sky.

Someday, he hoped, they could bring their child out here to see it. They would stand together under an expanding horizon and hope the next purple dragon would bring them a new dawn.

Feeling the tug on his leg, Ignitus followed. He'd just have to trust her on that. The eggs would be alright. The dragon race would survive this. And their dwindling generation could finally take back what they'd lost.

* * *

Ignitus had been down this darkened hall lined with the stories of his ancestors more times than he could count. And every time, he could feel apprehension welling up in him as the sounds of life above slowly faded.

Deep in the heart of the Temple, under the cool earth where sunlight couldn't reach, the silence was crushing. And yet, comforting in a strange way. Like he was shedding his old life, emerging into a new world out of touch with those worries.

Where better, then, for the birth of their last hope...

Flames willed the unimposing door open, a simple safeguard to lock out those who were not permitted inside. And Ignitus stepped into a room that would have been rather ordinary at any other time.

A few coloured cloths had been hastily thrown over stone basins, a tapestry hung up here and there, though that hardly did much to mask the Grotto's simple stone walls. It was the rainbow of dragon eggs scattered over altars and in soft woven nests that made this place special.

The warmth hit him then, glowing red carvings rimming this room. Fire magic would keep the eggs heated in the absence of a mother or father to nest here. It was hot enough that even he began to feel a bit warm.

Standing in the middle of the room illuminated by dancing torchlight, Ignitus sighed. He didn't know why he kept coming here. There was only one way into this room, and without dragon magic, the apes weren't getting in. They could hardly drill through solid stone without someone noticing.

There were dozens of people on guard, looking out from the Temple, patrolling Saifae, even wandering the woods just to make absolutely sure nothing would slip through. That was assuming Malefor even had any idea the eggs were here. They would have warning. They had _time_.

And the eggs were so close to hatching now... Occasionally one would twitch as the dreamer within gave a kick, or a tiny hatchling's soft, barely formed claws scratched weakly at the shell before giving up to continue gaining strength. Within the week, the first few should be hatching.

They had practically already won. So why could he feel only dread...?

His eyes lifted. At the opposite end of the room, on its own raised pedestal with a tapestry bearing aether's emblem, was the most important egg of them all.

Walking over, Ignitus raised a paw and laid it on the violet egg. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the thrum of life at his clawtips.

They hoped, they prayed... that the being within would undo the evil of its predecessor. Take back everything that had been stolen from them. Bring balance to a world thrown into darkness...

Because if they failed, there would be no hope for this reality.

And Ignitus knew that personally. If the Dark Master got his hands on this egg, it would all be over. They could never beat him. No matter what they did. No matter how hard they fought. There would be no coming back.

Perhaps that's why he kept returning here, looking for answers... Silently asking the unborn child in the egg in what way they would end this world's suffering.

He had to believe that they could... This time, the Guardians wouldn't make the same mistake. Their child of fate would not turn.

“How many times have you been down here tonight?”

Ignitus jumped, quickly pulling his paw from the egg. He'd been so wound up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard the door open behind him. “Something doesn't feel right.”

Haven walked up beside him, looking over his shoulder at the egg nestled in its pedestal. “You're worrying again.” She too lifted a paw to it, brushing her claws over the shell in a reverent self-soothing gesture, before stepping back. “I was just talking to one of the forest guards. All is well.”

He didn't reply, still gazing down intently. Sighing, she stepped back. “Come on. The eggs will be fine. But if you don't take care of yourself, you won't be.”

For once the Guardian listened, if only to keep his mate from worrying over him. Turning, he followed her towards the door. Hopefully he could find something to do to take his mind off things, though he suspected he wasn't going to get much sleep tonight either way.

They both froze as the Temple suddenly quaked above them, its entire foundation giving a great shudder as it rumbled and groaned in protest of some blow. The crash of falling stone, dislodged dust sprinkling down on their heads.

And then, deadly silence.

The two Guardians exchanged fearful expressions, both of them thinking the same thing. “M – maybe the earth kids are just up to some mischief again.” Her voice came out weaker than she meant it, hitching on that unlikely dream. It'd take an impossible amount of elemental power to make an explosion that big.

No... Something was very wrong.

Ignitus recovered first. “Go. Check on the outskirts. I'll stay with the eggs.”

Normally Haven would follow his orders without question at a time like this, but now she paused, looking anxiously at him.

Reading her expression, Ignitus stepped forward and quickly pressed his forehead to hers. “I'll keep our child safe.”

There was no time left to waste. Nodding, Haven burst through the door in a gust of wind, the stone sliding open as she propelled herself on outspread wings through it.

For minutes that seemed like hours, Ignitus waited there, pacing between the rows of unborn children as if apes might burst from the walls at any moment. When the second explosion hit, and the third, he knew something was very wrong. But he couldn't leave the eggs unguarded.

Ignitus jumped as the door slid open, whirling around with flames already trailing behind his claws. But through the darkened doorway came Volteer, his ever-fidgeting form now unusually still.

The fire Guardian quickly realized why. In the torchlight, shiny blood dripped down his golden scales, the animation in his eyes dimming.

“There are too many...” Volteer stepped forward, legs quaking under his weight.

The simplicity of that statement coming from him chilled Ignitus' blood. No detailed report on the composition of their forces, a ramble about battle strategies... Just _that_.

Volteer tried to take another step, but succeeded only in weakly lifting his leg. “Save them...”

And then he collapsed onto the stone floor.

There was no need to wonder what Volteer had meant. The Dark Armies had come here. Ignitus looked around in a panic, frantic mind jumping from one plan to the next. He wanted to believe that the safest place for the eggs was here, behind a sealed door in the heart of the Temple.

But a part of him knew: If they'd gotten this far, one way or another, they would find a way in.

That, or they would slaughter every last dragon in the Temple and leave the eggs to starve and die alone.

Volteer was lying unconscious on the ground in front of him, the gushing blood from uncertain wounds already pooling around his body. Dead or alive, one of the Guardians had already been defeated. Was there any stopping them...?

If they got into this room, every last member of the next generation would be lost, and their hope of defeating Malefor with it. But if some of the eggs were elsewhere... Even if they lost everything, if just one of them was missing...

Without a second thought, Ignitus raced over to the pedestal and picked up the purple egg, clutching it tight to his chest. It had to be that one. He would come back for the rest. They would bring the children to a new hiding place; they could still have a chance at rebuilding what was lost.

That was what he told himself... It was what he had to believe.

Ignitus ran through calm halls now thrown into chaos, soldiers passing quickly by, teachers ushering groups of children to safety. He ignored them all, ascending flights of stairs to the highest floor. It seemed they hadn't made it into the Temple proper yet, but they would soon enough.

And then someone stopped him, some commander, he couldn't remember his name. An orangey-gold fire dragon even more imposing than Terrador. “Master Ignitus, where – ” Stopping, out of breath, his eyes fell on the treasure the Guardian held. Ignitus' expression said all that it needed to, and the other dragon shrunk back in shock.

Then... It was over. They wouldn't make it out of this, and this last-ditch effort was all that they had.

Wordlessly he stepped out of Ignitus' way. He watched the Guardian go, then stood still in the silent hall. He could feel his mortality, his life dwindling before his eyes. If he survived this, if any of them did, it wouldn't be for long.

Ignitus kept running.

From the balcony he launched himself into the air, flying to the river on some guided instinct. Beneath him armies were raging, the world against apes. Courtyards that once served as peaceful training grounds were stained with the blood of their students. The forest was alive, writhing with shadows doing battle in defense of their world.

Far away, the first flickers of fire had ignited in Saifae. Soon enough, it would be burning. On horizon-bound island chains, smoke rose into the reddened sky. It seemed its sister cities already were.

Ignitus could imagine that the world was ending. Perhaps this was just the first harbinger of the inevitable end.

The air wasn't safe, and Ignitus ducked down low. The skies were swarming with dreadwings, still dropping their explosive payloads on the roof of the Temple. It rumbled again and one of its side wings gave a great groan before collapsing in on itself. The apes in the sky chorused in a great cheer, answered by the ground forces below.

Ignitus flew harder, cutting through the air until his wings and heart were numb.

And then something caught his eye. A familiar silver flash in the moonlight, a dragon locked in battle against a backdrop of red. The two celestial orbs were misaligned; they'd struck upon the full blood red moon. And he saw her silhouette against it, her teeth locked upon a dreadwing's neck. The ape on its back was thrown and plummeted with a howl.

At first he continued on without paying her much mind. They both had their jobs to do. But as he passed, behind him came a scream. Not a pained cry of a wounded dragon, but the haunting, paralyzing siren scream of a dreadwing.

He spun around before he could stop himself. “Haven!”

She was already falling, frozen in the air, accompanied close behind by the dreadwing. Her silhouette disappeared into the inky night sky, and the two shadows fell to the forest below.

In that moment, Ignitus forgot everything. He couldn't stop himself.

The clearing where she'd fallen wasn't hard to find, entire patches of branches taken out by their tumbling bodies. He found her slumped on the ground, the limp dreadwing not far away. With its last breath it had brought her down with it.

Apes had heard the crash too, and in moments their forces were there, skulking by the edge of the tree line, beady eyes lighting up at the prospect of an easy kill. Snarling, Ignitus pushed them back with a wave of fire.

Haven shifted, stirred awake by that, and quickly rose to her feet. Giving one glance at Ignitus' cargo, she turned her steely gaze back to the apes surrounding them. They haunted the shadows, waiting for their opening. “The egg.”

Ignitus remembered, then, his task. “I can't leave you to di– ”

“It's more important than me!” Seeing an opening, an ape dove at her. Whipping around, Haven struck it with her tail, sending it crashing into a tree. “What were you thinking coming here?”

Ignitus had no answer but another protective wave of fire that barely stopped a wave of apes from reaching her, so she ignored him. Relaxing, she closed her eyes and drew into herself. Around them the wind began to pick up, breaking through the trees seeking the source of their power.

Haven opened her eyes. The winds around them had quickly grown monstrous and fierce, howling through the forest, whipping the apes' fur as they began to cling to trees just to stay on their feet. A glow began to emanate from inside her, brightening, expanding.

Looking at Ignitus, the wind Guardian smiled. “I've still got a few tricks.” Her smile faded and she turned back to the battlefield. “Go. If you're sure you're making the right decision, then _go.”_

He left her there as she began to rise into the air, glowing ever more intensely. Apes who could struggle close enough piled on, driving their teeth past her scales, digging claws into her side, doing anything they could to bring her down.

He'd never been sure. There was no being sure that this was right. But he had to try.

As Ignitus struggled into the air, he felt the blast behind him, winds exploding with the rage of a hurricane, tearing acres of forest apart – all centered on the eye of the storm that was Haven. Flinching, he beat his wings harder, willing himself to fly faster. He had to see this through. He had to save them... Not just the eggs, but everything in this world he held dear.

Landing at the bank of the Silver River, Ignitus looked around frantically for a sign of what to do. Hide the egg? Bury it? Behind him he could still hear the sounds of battle, not so very far off. If it was found undefended out here, it would be worse than having left it to die in the Grotto.

He wanted to take it somewhere far away. Fly it to safety in Warfang, to the Northern Temple, to places far beyond the world even Malefor knew. But he couldn't leave the Temple to fall. If they were to survive this, his allies would need him.

And if they didn't survive... The egg couldn't be left here to hatch alone or go cold. Someone would need to take care of it. Someone far away from this war. And maybe someday, fate would drive them back.

There was only one thing he could think of to do.

Spying a mushroom cap overturned in the dirt, he picked it up and set it in the shallows. For a moment he hugged the egg to his chest, not wanting to let it go to an uncertain destiny. Was this really the right decision...? Was it really the only choice they had left?

Drawn back to reality by the nearby sounds of fighting, Ignitus pushed those feelings down and placed it snug inside the mushroom. A perfect fit, somehow. Like the ancestors had left this here for him.

At least maybe that was a sign he was doing the right thing...

With a small push, the egg was set adrift, circling in the water as if considering which path to choose. After a moment, the gentle current took hold and carried it on. Soon it disappeared past where he could see, down a stream beyond the trees. To places unknown it travelled. It was gone.

Ignitus called after it, “May the ancestors look after you...” A parting blessing, a call upon the ancients. Only through their intervention could it survive.

A shot in the dark. But it was all they had left.

“...May they look after us all.”

Ignitus stared at the empty river where the egg had been for a moment, watching the ripples of silvery water dancing in the moonlight. A small comfort, a moment of peace. But destiny or not, he still had this reality to fight for.

Straightening, he turned and took to the air.

What happened from here was up to fate.

* * *

Malefor's howls of rage thundered throughout the Well of Souls. The apes within, even those not part of the botched raid on the Temple, cowered in their rooms and prayed that death would find them before the Dark Master did.

“You _let_ the purple dragon _ESCAPE?!”_

Gaul barely dodged the next blast of aether aimed right at him, scrambling to find an explanation that could placate his master's rage. “The purple egg wasn't there, but – The dragons lost half their population in that battle, they'll never recover – ”

Another bout of crackling purple energy ripped through the air above his head. The ape fell to the ground before his throne already piled with the bodies of those unlucky few that hadn't escaped Malefor's wrath.

And then before him a shimmering violet form materialized, taking the vague shape of a dragon he'd never seen but instantly recognized.

“Master?” he breathed.

In the next instant, it all went dark. The sight of the specter bringing its claws down was burned into what remained of his left eye.

It took a few moments for the shock to wear off and Gaul to start screaming, clutching the bloody pulp left behind as red tears ran down his fur. The apparition had disappeared, but he could feel energy resonating off the crystal, preparing to end him.

In a plea for his life, he managed to choke out, “There's still time to find it, the Guardians must have spirited it away, but chances are they're dead – ”

“No.”

Malefor reached inside himself, searching for any vestiges of his power, any last lingering chance to win this war. But it was gone. Growling, his voice boomed from the dark gem, the very crystal thrumming with aether until it threatened to shatter. _“They're not dead.”_

It was lucky Malefor had paused to reflect then, for Gaul had time to put together another excuse before he was vaporized. “But – but we did recover something!”

He interpreted the silence on Malefor's end as permission to continue, so scrambling with the one hand that wasn't stemming the bleeding leaking through his fingers, he reached into his pouch.

Gaul managed to quell the shaking of his paw as he presented the black, silver-etched dragon egg, its tiny scales beautifully polished and gleaming in the crystal-light.

All was quiet for a moment. “And what will I do with that?”

“It's... It's part of what you needed.”

Again the purple dragon's voice shrieked furiously from the crystal. “I _only_ needed _one!”_

“Use it,” Gaul interjected, feeling energy growing again from his dark master's shrine. “I've seen what you've done to some of the apes. A dragon on our side, twisted like they were – it could turn the tides. It could give us time to make this right!”

At this, Malefor paused, contemplating. The rage that had clouded his vision faded. What's done was done – a reality he now had to come to grips with. They would need a new plan. Another would have to break the seal on his mind.

But more than that, Gaul had a point. A dragon loyal to him – a dragon _made_ to be loyal to him – it could turn this losing war around.

His enemies had lost their hope of a next generation tonight. It wouldn't take much to thin the rest out.

“This dragon is now your responsibility,” he said with a tone of voice implying he wasn't going to kill Gaul, yet. Gaul, happy just to be alive, didn't argue. “I will take them when the time comes.”

Taking this as a sign to leave, the ape king quickly picked up the egg and hurried out of his master's sight before he could lose what little else he had left. But as he made it to the exit, Malefor's looming presence followed.

“ _Find the purple dragon,”_ he hissed in his ear.

Gaul sped up until he was almost running. But he could still feel Malefor's eyes trailing him into the Well of Souls once he had gone.

Malefor retreated back into his prison in Convexity. He felt inside himself again, just to make sure, but it really was gone.

Somewhere out there, the next infant in the cycle was taking its first steps into the world. Within it was a power unimaginable. A power being wasted, squandered in this child.

If only he could have ended this sooner... He had been prepared to. Before he'd been locked away in this inescapable cage, his soul and body split into pieces, scattered across reality.

Now he could only wait. Wait, like all other beings, for the passing of time to bring him to victory.

Failure was not an option.

No matter how long he had to wait, he would take it all back.

**Author's Note:**

> Ten years ago, twelve-year-old me posted The Legend of Crystal. A basic rewrite-with-one-OC-added and unable to settle on a tone, and being my first story besides, it never reached its full potential.
> 
> Now on the ten-year anniversary of publishing TLOC, I want to give Crystal a shot again and tell the darker, more interesting and unique story I've always dreamed of giving her. While also fleshing out the world and characters of TLOS that I felt never really got enough development.
> 
> This first fic will stick a bit closer to the canon plotline, but from there I plan on branching out to tell a more original story. Either way this won't just be a play-by-play retelling again.
> 
> I'm only posting this now because Oct. 1st is when I published TLOC and I don't want to miss the date. I think I still want to finish my other Spyro story The Channeler first. After that I'll give this my focus.


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